


Dawn of Stability

by LoneWolfWriter



Series: The Homestead Stables [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Angst, Champ is nice and doesn’t do well with peer pressure, F/F, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, He’s there but drunk, Horses, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lots of Background, One Shot, Prequel: The Homestead Stables, Waverly owns a stable, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneWolfWriter/pseuds/LoneWolfWriter
Summary: The pit of her stomach, that annoying gut feeling Waverly had towards certain folks, told her not to panic. That the person hiding out somewhere within the stalls or hayloft of her barn was someone who needed a haven.Or:In a not completely unexpected turn of events, Waverly meets the new (Haught) sheriff.
Relationships: Hardy Champ/Waverly Earp, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nicole Haught/Original Female Character(s), Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: The Homestead Stables [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186478
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	Dawn of Stability

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Bmovies(Brent) and Shoushai for helping me with a title! 
> 
> Welcome to the Prequel to The Homestead Stables. It’s my way of introducing you all back into an old murder mystery fic that was once published back in 2018. I’m still revamping the original. Many ideas have entered my mind on how to make the story better and more thrilling than before! Not sure when the main fic will be published, but know that it’s still the original title, as mentioned above.
> 
> Now, let’s enter the world of mystery of when Nicole and Waverly first meet, about 4.5 years prior to the main fic. 
> 
> And yes, Nicole is married but not to Shae. Waverly is with Champ, who is surprisingly a nice, attentive boyfriend. 
> 
> **Trigger/ Content Warning:** brief mentions of child abuse at the end of the story. It’s a paragraph long. Starts with Waverly saying “Veronica... she’s asleep on my couch.” There is also a brief description of the abuse/markings in the third to last chapter of the fic. 

A wolf howled in the distance, hiding somewhere in the dark depths of the woods. Crows scattered overhead at the interruption of the stillness that had settled moments before. An answering howl came from across the yard, even further into the woods where connected trails brought travelers to other neighboring towns. 

The night sky shone under the brightness of the stars and toenail shaped moon. Bats flew around, catching whatever night-flying insect they could find. Waverly closed the barn doors, pulling them together and sliding the plank through the latch. The ground was illuminated by the shining moon and the flashlight in her hand. It became a habit to double check the doors since moving out to her old family home. 

Years of abandonment to the childhood home she barely grew up in had taken its toll. How the home that Wyatt Earp himself built still stood was a question that would never be answered. Bullet holes and aged wood gapes were great for a summer breeze, though terrible for Canadian winters and below zero temperatures. Waverly, four blankets plus a bonus blanket, didn’t dare stay at the house until it was deemed warm enough too. Being back where it all started and abruptly ended for her small, damaged family brought back far too many horrible memories. Each memory was more painful than the next. Nothing good truly happened at the homestead; a nickname the Earp property received years before Ward Earp became owner. 

The good memories she had were chipped and distorted and jarred with the bad ones that it was hard to tell if they were actually good or not. She shook her head, ridding the images that plagued her mind. They played over and over, spitting each image faster and faster like an old movie reel before combusting into flames. Waverly cast her flashlight around, checking every nook and cranny for signs of life that shouldn’t be there. 

She had an assumption; one that Waverly kept to herself. Every morning, her barn doors were left ajar and the plank would be laid perfectly against the barn. Signs of footprints were far and few in-between, which made her wonder what or who were light on their feet enough to not leave markings. The problem Waverly had, though, were her horses. Both of them alerted her when danger was nearby or if something or rather someone was in the barn when they shouldn’t be. Her horses _always_ bellowed out, yet as recent events had shown, whatever or _whoever_ was hiding in her barn, showed no signs of being a threat. 

The pit of her stomach, that annoying gut feeling Waverly had towards certain folks, told her not to panic. That the person hiding out somewhere within the stalls or hayloft of her barn was someone who needed a haven. She didn’t know why that gut feeling brought on such thoughts, but she was going to listen to them, anyway. 

Another howl echoed through the trees. A small smile tugged at Waverly’s lips. She appreciated the fact that she grew up on the outskirts of a small town where she could see a variety of wildlife almost every single day. A rustle of leaves caught behind her caught Waverly’s attention. The tree line wasn’t far from the barn and odds of deer, squirrels, chipmunks causing the sound was likely the case. Twigs snapped and more leaves ruffled across the ground. Waverly thought about shining the light towards the sound, catching the animal in action. Instead, she turned back around and headed to the house. 

A wave of excitement rushed through her as she thought about the upcoming events. Competitions were coming up and if she had placed well enough, that money would go towards renovating and putting the addition to the barn. The money would also go into buying her first pair of school horses so she could open up the riding academy she always dreamed of. Her sister’s parting words before she took off to whatever country she saw fit, filled her mind. Doubt filled her soul. Was it ridiculous to have such high hopes to have people roaming the land that everyone called the ‘murder house?’ Waverly’s aunt and uncle didn’t seem to think so. They encouraged her to follow her dreams. 

“ _Opening up a place and offering riding lessons was just what Purgatory needed_.” Aunt Gus had said to her. 

Waverly squeezed her eyes shut as headlights illuminated the yard. She was so lost in thought that she hadn’t heard the crumpling of the dirt from the tires. “Sweet cheese and crackers.” Her hand flew up to her heart pounding in her chest. The unexpected arrival of someone and being scared half to death was not what she called an ideal start to her evening. Once she reopened her eyes and they refocused, she shone the light towards the intruder. Her eyes squinted at the bright white paint beaming off the light and the blue surrounding the strip going across the truck. 

_Champ_. Waverly sighed. 

Her boyfriend was supposed to be in town with his buddies, drinking and hustling others at a game of pool at _Shorty’s_ . _Why is he here now_ , Waverly wondered. Not that she didn’t want to spend time with her doting and attentive boyfriend. She had evening plans of curling up in bed with a good book in hand with a bowl of vegan ice cream by her side. Now she had to figure out how to keep Mister McDrunky Grabby-Hands from trying to have sex with her. A drunk Champ was far too rough and even less considerate in the sack than a sober Champ was. At least when he was sober, no meant no, and he respected her like the fine gentleman he was. 

The driver's side door opened just as Waverly went to take out her frustration. “Cha- Uncle Curtis? What — When did Champ give you back your truck?” Why was Curtis at her home when he should be with Gus? 

An annoyed look passed over Curtis’s face as he slammed the door closed. “He didn’t. The fool is three sheets to the wind, and I got called down to the station to pick him up. It seems he was too ashamed to call you.” 

“Great.” Waverly knew what that meant. Champ’s buddies had gotten him drunk and convinced him to hit on girls. Her boyfriend didn’t handle peer pressure well, and because of that, his friends took that to their advantage. They coerced him into flirting with other girls while drunk enough to forget where he was. _Must have been a girl that knew he had a girlfriend_ , she mused. They had been together since high school. On again, off again kind of romance. Somehow they were voted prom king and queen when Waverly was a senior and he had already graduated the year before (by the skins of his teeth because he thought playing the dumb jock was better.) Everyone and their brother praised how they would be together forever and go the whole nine yards. Marriage, kids, a white picket fence around the perfect little home, and grow old together. She wondered if those people were right about them, but part of her wondered if she’d be happy about that notation. Was she settling because Purgatory had slim pickings? 

“It’s quarter after eight. A bit early for him to be that drunk.” 

“Sweetheart, I love you, but this man is all deadweight.” Curtis groaned as he pulled Champ out of the truck. “If it wasn’t for the fact I don’t want to be paying for the detailing of the inside of the truck if he upchucks, I’d leave him there.” 

Waverly stifled the giggle that threatened the spill. Her uncle didn’t exactly have a soft spot for her boyfriend. Not since he started becoming a regular customer at _Shortys_. Champ was a decent repairer around Curtis’s ranch. Replacing rundown fences, cleaning stalls and water animals was what Curtis and Gus usually had him do, and that’s about as far as he was good for. Then Waverly remembered, he had tried taking the preliminary law enforcement exam that morning. For the third time in six months. 

“ _It’s okay, Champ. You have nothing to prove._ ” Is what Waverly told him the last two times he had failed. 

“Did he uh, um-”

“Fail? Seems to be the consensus. The York boys started handing him shots as soon as he walked out of the station.” 

“Oh, butter biscuits. Just what I need.” Waverly looked at the house where her uncle was currently trying to guide Champ. An idea, though kinda mean, popped into her head. “Hey uncle Curtis, would you um— mind bringing him to the barn. He’s a rowdy drunk, you know? And he’ll understand.” She laughed nervously, hoping her real reasons weren’t revealed from the crack in her voice. If her uncle had picked up on it, he hadn’t voiced it. 

“Sure. Just open the door and I’ll drop him just inside.” 

Waverly laughed. “I don’t think Snickerdoodles or Whiskey will appreciate that. I’m beginning to think they don’t like him. Whiskey bit his butt a week ago. He got so mad he told me to put him down.” Champ was also drunk when he spouted out such cruel words. (He apologized after Waverly told him what he said after he sobered up.)

“I thought Whiskey didn’t like men—” Curtis smirked. Though Waverly couldn’t see him, she sure as hell heard the pride coming from him.

“He doesn’t. Besides you, of course.” Waverly said flatly. The both of them busted out laughing, earning a loud groan from Champ. 

The little voice inside Waverly’s head told her what she was doing was mean. Leaving her boyfriend in the barn to wake up with hay in places that shouldn’t be wasn’t _appropriate_. The other, more appealing, voice countered the soft side with a reasonable explanation. She truly didn’t want to deal with Champ tonight. Waverly loved him, but his drunken escapades were too much for her. Champ was literally a day and night effect. One moment, he’s the best man in town, sweet and loving and overall amazing, then after a couple of drinks, he’s hard and cruel and a man no person wants to be around. He was a decent boyfriend. His drinking habits, though we’re getting worse and worse by the day. (No thanks to his friends.)

She felt bad for Champ. Failing the same test three times couldn’t have been a good feeling. Champ had hit the books, determined to pass. To become more than just a farmhand. He just had a hard time remembering everything. 

Waverly slid the plank out of the latch and laid it against the barn, then slid the doors open. She was greeted with the sound of Whiskey and Snickerdoodles blowing raspberries at her for disturbing their peace. As she stepped out of the way for Curtis to pass her, she heard him sneeze. 

“Bless you.” 

Curtis stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head towards her. “That wasn’t me.” 

That little voice of reason, that gut feelings she always had, came back full force. Curtis was quick to lay Champ near a stack of square bales and grabbed the closest thing his hands could take hold of; a thick red cotton lead rope that Waverly always hung near the barn doors. Right as her uncle went to step forward, Waverly laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping further movements. She pressed a finger to her lips, closed the barn doors and clicked the button to kill the light from her flashlight. A minute passed with no further sound. Waverly went to nudge Curtis to leave when she heard a whimper coming from a stall. A long exhaled sigh escaped Waverly’s lips. She clicked the flashlight back on and beamed it directly to the floor, hoping not to startle them. 

Snickerdoodles greeted her at the door, angling his body in such a way so she couldn’t see into his stall. Waverly knew her horse had a protective streak and also loved children. He was better than most watch dogs. 

“Excuse me, Snickerdoodle.” Waverly unlatched the door, wincing at how loud it echoed in the barn. “Come on, buddy. I need to get to her.” She continued to whisper. 

Once Snickerdoodle side stepped, she beamed the light to the corner he was attempting to block. “Oh sweetheart, what have they done to you.” 

  
  


**«««« ≠ »»»»**

  
  


Grey’s Anatomy played across the screen for the umpteenth time. There were hundreds of episodes, yet the same six seasons were played over and over. Just once, Nicole wanted to see some kind of advancement in the show instead of watching the same drama be created. There was a small sliver of hope that the patients would actually survive, but she knew that would never happen. 

Her wife, Brooklyn, sat on the couch, completely engulfed in the show. Nicole shook her head and went up the stairs. It wasn’t like her wife would notice her gone from the kitchen. The noise from the tv was distracting, and there were multiple files that still needed to be read up on. She had just taken the position as the new sheriff in a quiet backwater town. She and Brooklyn had moved into their new home a week ago and today was her first official day on the job. 

Sheriff Nedley had given her files that he wanted her to know better than the back of her own hands. Strange and a little interesting, that a sheriff, of many years, had hidden files locked away in the precinct like some common felon. Nicole stepped into her office, shutting the door quietly. Those files were a secret to the entire workforce. The last thing Nicole needed was prying and curious eyes rummaging through them. 

The room still had a hint of fresh paint lurking in the air, though Nicole didn’t mind. Her desk had been purposely placed near a window until the smell vanished. Nicole sat down in her chair and flicked on the desk lamp. The manila folder shook within her fingers. Deep, dark, hidden secrets were about to be revealed to her trembling form. The buzz of excitement coursed through her veins. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this dizzy exhilaration. 

Light yellow met grey in a dance that songbirds sang too. It was beautiful. Like an unwritten story being untold. Nicole’s face scrunched in confusion. Newspaper articles lined and overlapped each other in an awkward hug. Multiple reports hidden underneath them, waiting to be seen by her. How could an incident from fifteen years ago be of importance now? Were the other files just the same as that one? Her eyes roamed over the top article, then she saw it. One word. A last name that held a forbidden affection. 

Nicole jumped at the feeling of her phone vibrating in her back pocket. It was late. No one of importance knew her cell number, except Brooklyn. She couldn’t see her wife giving out her number to strangers. All thoughts came to a screeching halt as the programmed number she saved as _Sheriff’s Office_ , shone across her screen. 

She answered the phone and was greeted by a voice she hadn’t come to learn yet. “ _Sheriff Ned- Haught_!” 

“Yes. Speaking.” 

“ _Earp Homestead. It’s on the edge of town, East side. Only abandoned farm on the road. You need to be there, right now. Officer Conners will meet you there. And Sheriff_?” 

“Yes?” 

“ _Know this isn’t the first incident. Lonnie will have the file for you when you arrive_.” The line on the other end disconnected. Leaving Nicole wondering what the hell had just happened. 

She closed up the file and grabbed the stack. In one corner of the room, stood a medium size safe where all her work related items were stored. Brooklyn hated guns and had a fit when Nicole suggested keeping them safe in their bedroom. Not worth the argument, she mused. Nicole quickly opened the safe and grabbed her work gun, badge, and work belt, then slid the folders inside. 

Laughter creeped up the stairs, filling the quiet house. Usually Nicole would have smiled at the sound. Something about the urgency in the woman’s voice who called her, had Nicole feeling less like herself and scared to know what she was about to head into. Purgatory was quiet and seemingly harmless from what she gathered while patrolling the past week. As much as she enjoyed working in the city, she had dreamed of settling down in a small-town and becoming sheriff there. Now that her dream had come true, she hadn’t expected it to turn so mysterious in one phone call. 

The last three buttons stayed undone, as Nicole trekked down the stairs. “Why are you uniform? You’re off the clock!” She heard Brooklyn say. 

“I’m the sheriff, I work all hours of the day. You’re in your residency years at the hospital. Working around the clock is what you do, right?” Nicole argued. 

Brooklyn rolled her eyes. Nicole knew that was her signal for not wanting to argue pointless facts. “I’ll be back later.” She slid her boots on, feeling the ties beneath her feet, and placed the stetson on her head. 

Another round of laughter filled her ears as the door, as if their awkward interaction never happened. _Just making the marriage work_ , Nicole reminded herself. 

The address to the mystifying Homestead pinged across her cell. _Arlene_ , Nicole finally remembered her name. She sent a quick text back, thanking her. 

Driving across town to an unknown house, felt equally worrying and something she couldn’t quite place. Nicole hardly used her GPS. Muscle memory somehow got her to the Earp archway. She had never been there before and yet she knew exactly where to go despite the quick directions she got from Arlene almost thirty minutes ago. Her headlights glared from three different tail lights. An old beat up, blue and white Ford, a red Jeep, and Officer Conner’s squad car. 

A red Jeep? Nicole had seen it at the grocery store, but not the driver of said vehicle. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of it being a certain brunette who had invaded her thoughts ever since laying eyes on her. Not that she would actually admit that to anyone. She was married and happy and couldn’t possibly be thinking about anyone that wasn’t her wife. 

As approached the house, she saw a man leaning against a post talking to Lonnie. Officer Conner must have noticed her because of his posture changing and cutting off the conversation with the man. “Sheriff.” He clumsily pulled out a file from his jacket and almost dropped while handing it to her. “Sorry.” 

Her eyes scanned over the paperwork. Multiple reports indicated the person was considered a flight risk, always running away to a ranch owned by the McCready’s. Nicole read further, then saw it. “Where is she?” 

“Waverly took her inside. Not surprised she’s here versus my place. Ain’t got no horses there anymore.” The man rubbed at the back of his neck, a solemn look on his face. 

“You’re Mr. McCready, I assume?” Nicole asked. Her mind reeled back to when she saw the man’s face for the first time. She had seen him at the station a few days ago, picking up a guy by the name of Champ Hardy. The same guy that was the brunette’s boyfriend. Nicole tried not to think of how she knew that information. “You’re… Curtis. Sheriff Nedley mentioned your name to me.”

“Indeed, I am. Let me take you inside.” Curtis stepped forward, reaching out to grab the door handle. Nicole stopped him before he could. 

“Hang on. How many times have you found this girl on your land and why would she change location because of some horses?” 

“Friendlier than people, I suppose. Unless you’re my niece, the nicest person in town… um, that file doesn’t have half the reports.” Curtis pointed toward the folder in Nicole’s hands.

“What do you mean?” Lonnie questioned. 

“That poor girl is usually inside my barn almost every night. Since Waverly moved back here, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of her. I can almost guarantee that Waverly has seen indications she’s been here instead. Girl just needs a safe place to hide. No better place to do so than beside a big horse willing to protect you. The girl just loves horses too.” 

“What do you mean, safe place?” 

“I can answer that.” Nicole turned her head and was struck by the absolute beauty that stood in the doorway. None of them had heard the door open. “Thanks for dropping off Champ, Uncle Curtis. I’ll make sure he’s at the bar bright and early to help with restocking.” 

Both Curtis left the porch, followed by Lonnie. Nicole told him she had it from there and would fill out the reports herself. If the other reports were true, the girl inside probably didn’t want more people around her. She had to stay focus on the matter but her stupid, useless gay self, couldn’t control how her body and mind reacted to the beautiful woman standing before her. 

Nicole stepped forward, reaching her hand out to Waverly. Her body trembled in a way she never felt before. Her hands were sweaty, and it took everything in her to not trek her eyes up and down Waverly’s lithe body that shone under the moonlight. “I’ve been uh — meaning to introduce myself.” 

It was true. The first time Nicole had seen Waverly was when her wife Brooklyn had pointed her out at the grocery store. Waverly was struggling to grab something off the top shelf and her wife, _oh so kindly_ , cracked a joke about short people and being thankful for not being in her shoes. Nicole couldn’t believe how insensitive her wife had been and was to help the poor woman when this burly, tattooed looking boy-man stepped up behind her. A shot of jealousy coursed through her veins when she saw the man squeeze the woman’s shoulder and how dopey his smile was while looking at her. 

Not even seconds later, the guy had turned his head towards them and gave them a kind smile before returning his attention to the girl in front of him. The action caused Nicole to roll her eyes with anger filling her chest. Of course, the beautiful woman had an attentive boyfriend. She hated how Waverly had kissed his cheek in thanks and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards whatever aisle she needed to be in next. 

She had wanted to be the one to help Waverly. To be the one that Waverly kissed.

What she had felt that day was odd and unexpected. Everything in her told her to yank (who she learned quickly was Champ Hardy) him away from her and to protect this woman she had never met before, from this sweet and affectionate man. Which sounded ridiculous, even in her own head. Her heart had seized in her chest at the prospect, and it had her questioning her own marriage. Not that it was much of one, anyway. She and Brooklyn were still learning the simple things about each other since getting hitched while under the influence only nine months ago. Many of her friends from the academy and the city she worked in wonder if Brooklyn had gotten pregnant from a one-night stand and Nicole, the ever chivalrous woman that she was, married her so she wasn’t alone.

The thought wasn’t far from the truth, but it wasn’t accurate either. Brooklyn didn’t want kids and was more focused on her job at the hospital to even want children of her own. The lonely part was unfortunately true. Not for Brooklyn, though. No, Brooklyn had everything. A family that accepted her for who she was and loved the job she had. Nicole’s family wasn’t like that. They disowned her for wanting to be a cop. Her parents didn’t care that she was gay, not in the least. Her _lifestyle_ was paraded around the house and the streets. It only gave her parents more ammo to use at multiple protests for god knows what. Nicole never understood why her parents went to so many or even had _her_ in the first place. She thought her mother’s pregnancy was an accident and her mom and dad had given parenting a _good ole try_. Only to be raised by her aunt and uncle when her parents took off to go to another protest somewhere in the world. 

“I’m Sheriff Haught, but you can call me Nicole.” Her hand grasped the delicate one within her own and felt her smile growing by the second. “And you are Waverly Earp. Quite the popular girl around her.” And she was. Nicole found out Waverly’s name through the former Sheriff Nedley and everyone else in town who couldn’t help but praise the young woman. 

“It’s all in the smile and wave.” Waverly awkwardly lifted her hand. “- wait. Sheriff? You-you’re Nedley’s replacement?” She punctuated the last word out, slowly. Trying to wrap her head around the new found information that no one seemed to include her in on. 

Nicole blinked, her eyebrow rising slightly. Not the reaction she was expecting. It was better to get back onto the subject then continue to be distracted by, well, all things Waverly. “Uh, yes. About the girl-”

“Veronica… She’s asleep on my couch. Roughed up more than usual. Her foster parents aren’t the kindest. How they got their fostering license is a puzzling matter. Ronnie is their punching bag more times than not. It would seem Jeff hit the bottle early tonight and she was his target.” Waverly said sadly. 

Anger filled Nicole’s soul. How could anyone treat a child that way? Children were innocent and learned from adults’ behavior. Why would anyone be that cruel to kids that were supposed to be loved and protected by them? “As much as I am pained to say this, but I need to speak with her. Get her statement so I can further investigate her foster parents- if you don’t mind me asking, how do you know they’re abusive?” 

“Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of poor interactions with them.” Nicole stared at Waverly curiously. “I work at Shorty’s and Mr. Holton is just as aggressive drunk as he is sober, only worse. Sheriff Nedley and a few other officers have had to escort him out many times. My boyfriend, Champ, got into an altercation with him when Jeff tried getting a little too friendly while I was working.” 

“Jackass.” Nicole growled under her breath. She quickly cleared her throat and stood a little taller, attempting to be the professional person who she was supposed to be. 

“I’ll let you in, but on one condition.” Waverly stepped in front of her door, arms crossed and a look that Nicole wished wasn’t directed at her. 

“I make no promise.” 

“Don’t let Veronica go back to that place. She needs a better home. Not a temporary home that she’s just passing through, but one that is filled with love.” 

Nicole smiled and nodded. 

Waverly let her inside and led her to where Veronica was sleeping. The first thing Nicole noticed was how peaceful the small redheaded girl looked. The second thing was the black eye she was sporting and the other, _colorful_ , marks adorning her tiny body. Nicole felt tears prickle at the back of eyes, threatening to spill. Never again would this child step foot into the home that caused all that pain. 

An idea popped into Nicole’s head. She’d wait until morning to call child services until morning, after Veronica settled into her, hopefully, new forever home. 

She always wanted kids, the problem was her wife not being keen on the idea of having them. Maybe fostering was the way to go. Nicole didn’t get her fostering license for nothing after all. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Don’t ask me what happened to Champ in the back half. Just know he’s passed out somewhere in the barn. Haha 
> 
> If anyone is interested, I do have plans for another one shot set roughly 6 months to a year ahead of this fic. 
> 
> Also, I will be updating the medieval fic soon so look out for that if you read it!
> 
> You can also follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LoneWolf_Writer) and [Tumblr](https://cwinter1994.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I also have a [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.qa/LoneWolf_Writer) if you want to ask me questions! 


End file.
